


tattoos together, something to remember

by miss_minnelli



Series: Ineffable Femslash February 2021 [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Exes, F/F, Getting Back Together, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29251695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_minnelli/pseuds/miss_minnelli
Summary: Aziraphale turns up to a random tattoo parlour to get a sentimental tattoo removed, only to find her ex-girlfriend working there.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Femslash February 2021 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138229
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40
Collections: Ineffable Wives Femslash February 2021





	tattoos together, something to remember

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6 of Femslash February. The prompt was "stars"
> 
> Enjoy some tattoo parlour exes!!
> 
> Title from Lauv's Tattoos Together

It had been several years since the split. Aziraphale had done all the usual things one did after a breakup. She’d cut ties with Crowley’s friends, she’d gotten a new hobby (knitting, although it wasn’t going well), and she’d moved away from Tadfield. But there was one thing she’d been procrastinating.

For their third anniversary she and Crowley had gotten matching tattoos at the tattoo parlour where Crowley worked (which, in hindsight, had been a terrible idea). Aziraphale’s was on her left hip and Crowley had gotten hers over her heart. It was a circle, about three centimeters in diameter, coloured in a deep navy blue. Inside the circle were their initials, surrounded by several little stars.

Aziraphale saw the tattoo every morning when she got dressed, every night when she put on her pajamas, every time she went to the loo. It was quite hard to let go of this physical proof of their relationship, but it was a constant reminder that she and Crowley couldn’t make it work.

(The reason for this was complicated, but boiled down to Crowley moving too fast and Aziraphale’s tendency to recklessly spend all her money on rare books. They’d split amicably enough, but it still haunted Aziraphale. If only Crowley had waited and Aziraphale had cut down on the book auctions, they might still be together.)

The pain of the breakup was starting to fade, though Aziraphale thought she’d probably never love anyone the way she loved Crowley. If she were to have any hope trying, she decided she must get the tattoo covered up in a way that hid their initials. Then, perhaps the wound would heal fully and she could try to move on with someone else. 

So, she’d set up an appointment at The Devil’s Ink in Soho, a place that had opened last year.

Inside the parlour reminded Aziraphale vividly of Crowley, so much so that when she saw Crowley sitting at one of the stools next to a tattoo table, she thought she’d imagined her. That is, until Crowley looked up and made eye contact. _Oh, shit_.

Crowley was backlit by a bright lamp which made her appear as if she was glowing. Aziraphale’s overactive imagination conjured an image of Crowley being magically deposited in this tattoo shop to send her a message, or something just as outrageous.

The lady at the front desk called Aziraphale over and asked for her name. She gave it, but didn’t take her eyes off of Crowley. God, she was beautiful. The front desk woman told Aziraphale she could head back to the studio area, and as she approached Crowley, her eyes drifted down from Crowley’s stunning golden eyes to her chest. Crowley was wearing a loose-fitting, low-cut blouse and Aziraphale could see the edge of a navy blue circle above her left breast.

Aziraphale had spent the last five years trying to rebuild herself into a woman who existed without Crowley. In that moment, brick by brick, the structure formerly known as Aziraphale crumbled to the ground.

Crowley hadn’t had the tattoo removed or covered up. That meant Crowley could still love her.

“Hi,” said Crowley, quietly.

Aziraphale opened her mouth. What the hell did she say now? She’d come here to erase the last traces of Crowley from her life, and now here she was, right in front of Aziraphale’s face, bearing the same mark that Aziraphale had on her hip.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley tried again.

“Yes. Yes, um. Hello. There. Hello there.” This was too much and she had to get out of here. “I was here to, um, get something covered up, but I think I’ve changed my mind. I suppose I’ll be on my way then. Good—goodbye.”

Crowley’s brow furrowed. “What?”

Aziraphale was already walking away, deciding she didn’t actually have it in her to speak to Crowley right now. There were too many questions. Why hadn’t Crowley had her tattoo removed? Did Crowley still love her? Did she still love Crowley? (Yes.) Perhaps in another few years Aziraphale would be brave enough to go to a different tattoo shop to get it covered, or just visit the doctor to get it removed. For now through, she needed to go home and lick her old wounds that had all spontaneously burst open upon seeing Crowley again.

She managed to make it outside where it was somehow much easier to breathe and was heading toward the bus stop, but Crowley was right behind her. There was no escape now, unless she started hoofing it down the streets of London. Aziraphale liked to think she had a bit more dignity than that, but she did consider it.

“Aziraphale, wait!” Crowley called out, and she sounded so desperate that Aziraphale stopped dead in her tracks. They were doing this, apparently. “You don’t have to leave. I can still help you with whatever you need covered up!”

Aziraphale turned around and bit her lip to stop the tears that had just materialized from falling. “No, I don’t think you can.” She pointed to her hip and one tear escaped without her consent.

Crowley’s face softened and all the confusion fell away. “Oh, angel,” she whispered. The rest of Aziraphale’s tears rolled down her cheeks. “You still have it too?”

“Yes. I—I couldn’t bear to part with you—it. And then I saw you, and that you still have yours. And you’re in London now too? I don’t know what to say, Crowley. You could’ve…looked me up? I don’t know.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to see me, Aziraphale. Of course I’ve seen your bookshop. Even thought about going in a few times, but I didn’t want to invade your personal space. Then I saw you were coming today—well, all I saw was A. Fell was coming in for a consultation, but that had to be you, didn’t it? I was so nervous to see you. I hoped we could talk?” She looked down at the ground, seeming defeated. “Sorry, I should’ve called and warned you. That wasn’t fair.”

Waves of emotion were rolling through Aziraphale’s body. Anxiety, sadness, excitement, fear, trepidation. Crowley wanted to see her. Crowley wanted to talk to her. Crowley still had her tattoo. Crowley had waited all these years.

“I’m not upset,” Aziraphale managed. She swallowed aggressively and willed the the tears to stop. She waved her hand. “Lots of feelings,” she said, as an explanation. “I’d like to talk. If that’s was you want, too. I—I’ve turned the irresponsible purchases into a money-making scheme, if you can believe it,” Aziraphale added with a watery laugh.

Crowley smiled warmly back. “Wanna go for cocoa after my shift? I’m off in an hour.”

“Yes.” Perhaps Aziraphale responded too quickly, but she was passed the point of giving a damn. She was getting cocoa with Crowley! “I’ll see you then, dear.”

“Bye, angel.”


End file.
